


Ebony and Ivory

by ghostpeaches



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Death, General Allen, General Kanda, Introspective Kanda, M/M, Tragedy, coffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpeaches/pseuds/ghostpeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A great many times, Kanda had gazed upon a similar image. He was, Kanda thought almost fondly, like an albino spider, with his pale skin and hair and his gangly limbs, too long and skinny for his body. And now, his little albino spider was crushed, a lifeless shell of what he used to be. Yullen, heavy on the tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ebony and Ivory

**Author's Note:**

> My playlist for this story was:  
> "Dead in the Water" by Ellie Goulding  
> "Youth" by Daughter  
> "Civilian" by Wye Oak  
> "Borrowed Time" by A Fine Frenzy  
> "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy  
> "Blood" by The Middle East  
> "Lonely" by The Middle East  
> (I would recommend listening to a few of them while reading it, only if you want to)

He stared at the small, pale body in the coffin and his lungs deflated. There was no other reaction he really could've mustered, to be honest. Except, maybe...

"You stupid Moyashi." He growled, clenching his calloused hands so tightly that they bled. "You idiot." He gritted his teeth, glaring at the corpse. Allen was so petite, so delicate looking, his eyes closed peacefully. A great many times, Kanda had gazed upon a similar image, the beansprout, with his silver eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks like erratic moth wings. The sunlight would slant over his porcelain skin, dance over his baby-fine white hair, trace it's golden pools of light over his spindly limbs as he slept in Kanda's bed. He was, Kanda thought almost fondly, like an albino spider, with his pale skin and hair and his gangly limbs, too long and skinny for his body.

And now, his little albino spider was crushed, a lifeless shell of what he used to be. There was no blood on him, it was almost mocking, like he wasn't really dead. All the boy's wounds, he'd been told, were centered in the abdominal area, so the Exorcist coat that he donned hid them. The samurai glared in contempt at Allen's body, just as he'd done while he was alive. There would be no gentle kisses to the cold porcelain cheek or lips. He was Kanda Yu, and such actions were beyond him. They were childish. It was the sort of thing that his husband would've done, had it been Kanda's corpse instead. Allen would've cried, like the teen so often did. He would've held Kanda's lifeless hand and sobbed, and kissed his waxy cheeks or forehead, or even his lips, uncaring that he was dead, and thereby unresponsive. He wasn't an idiot like the beansprout. A corpse was a corpse, and as far as Kanda was concerned, his lover was gone as soon as his breath had left him. The body in front of him wasn't even Allen, it was just another dead person.

The Earl was gone now, he and Allen had killed each other, and the small corpse had been recovered as soon as the battle was over. Lenalee and Lavi had both cried, Komui had held his sister tight and let a few small tears escape. Kanda hadn't cried. He'd already gotten shit for it from Lenalee and the rabbit, the latter yelling at him through tears.

"Do you even have a fucking heart, Yu? He loved you! You know that? He loved you so much, you emotionless bastard!" Kanda had said nothing, and Lenalee had hauled Lavi off. Kanda didn't see what the big deal was. He hadn't cried when Daisya had died. He hadn't wept when Marie had passed away. He hadn't even shed a tear when General Tiedoll had breathed his last. So why would it be any different for a beansprout like the one deceased in front of him? Their life had once been rife with warfare, and people were going to die, even stupidly attractive Exorcists like the Moyashi. Sure, the last five years of their life had been spent 'together', beginning with awkward sex just to release tension, and blooming into a real relationship, with clandestine kisses and meaningful smirks and plenty of teasing from their friends. And then, two years ago, there had been an unofficial ceremony, held by an exuberant Komui and a less enthusiastic Link. So, for all intents and purposes, he was married to the beansprout. By why would that mean he should cry for him over anyone else? It wasn't like he was some blubbering wife, weeping over her deceased husband. He'd made it clear that such attachments were useless, unnecessary, and yet he'd made one regardless of every rule he'd set for his stupid self. But he wasn't about to let such an attachment destroy him just because it had been shattered by death.

He relented to foolish tradition, rough fingertips skimming over one pallid cheek. A small, desperate part of him recalled an analogous occurrence, the alteration being that when he'd done it before, the pale eyes had fluttered open, and a smile had spread over the boy's round face.

"You're finally back from assignment, baKanda?" Amusement twinkled in the silver pools. "Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you'd gone and croaked on me or something."

"Shut your mouth, brat." He kissed his pouting husband's forehead before poking at the nearly imperceptible furrow in it. "You'll get permanent wrinkles to match your old man hair if you keep doing that." The scowl only increased, starting to crinkle his chin as well. "Idiot."

"You're so mean, Kanda."

"But you still put up with me."

"It's mostly for the sex." Kanda glared at him, turning around to walk away, navy hair whipping behind him. "Hey, where're you going?"

"If it's mostly for the sex, you can go to Lavi." He started in surprise when a pair of dichromatic hands stuck out on either side of his head and grasped the long parts of his bangs firmly, tugging gently on them like reigns.

"You know I'm just kidding, jerkface." The muffled voice behind him muttered as a small face pressed into his upper back. "I love you, and all that mushy stuff, okay?"

"Whatever, beansprout."

"Hey! I said it, you have to say it too." He turned around, sighing. The forehead wrinkle was back. He pressed his chapped lips gently to it, and it smoothed out beneath them.

"Fine. I love you, dummy."

"Well, I'd like it to not be accompanied by an insult, but I guess that's the best you can do, being emotionally constipated and all."

"Shut up. I love you."

"There we go."

He realized he was gritting his teeth extraordinarily hard and lessened them. His fingers were still on Allen's face, almost three shades darker than the creamy skin they caressed. He moved them to the crown of white hair, stroking it slowly, carefully threading through it. It was still as silky as it had been in life, and an irrational part of him wanted to bury his face into it and inhale the faintly peppermint scent he knew (hoped was probably a more accurate term) would be there. He wasn't sure now, though. It might be tainted with the stench of blood, or smell otherwise. They did clean his body after all, including his mop of pearly locks. Since the Earl was dead, caskets no longer had to be cremated. As such, they could afford to make them more elaborate and beautiful, as they would no longer be wasted. Allen's coffin was exquisite, made of ivory wood, intricately inlaid with gold and silver to match Crown Clown's mask. It was a spectacle to behold, but it only made Kanda angry. Why make such a beautiful thing if it was only going to house a rotting corpse?

"Fuck you." He growled, fingers fisting the snowy hair. "You fucking moron. You weren't supposed to die before me. Don't think that just because you did, I'll kill myself to join you or anything. I'm dying whenever I die, and you'll just have to wait for me. You can be patient for once in your life, right stupid?" He released his fingers, eyes closing halfway. He smoothed down the hair that he'd jumbled and sighed. "This isn't goodbye. I promise. I'll see you again, Moya..." He stopped, and allowed himself a melancholy smile. "...Allen."

He headed to his room, leaving Komui and the others to do what they may with the ivory coffin. He walked in the door, eyes lingering on the hourglass, the lotus glowing solemnly inside it. There were still three petals, just as he'd left it when he'd heard the news that Allen's body was here, nearly a full day ago.

"Fuck you." He muttered to the flower, and it was then that the tears finally fell, hot and full of anger and grief and regret. He let his mind wander to albino spiders, spindly and pale and fragile but with a vicious bite, just like his beansprout.

* * *

It was little more than a year later that an ebony coffin was carried it, adorned with gold illustrations of lotuses. A single, lonely katana sat atop it. Not Mugen, which had vanished with its master's life force, but a sword of Kanda's all the same. It seemed to cry out in solitude, mourning for the samurai who once wielded it. Komui and Lenalee stood before the coffin, heads bowed in respect. Lavi and Bookman had left soon after Allen's death, but Komui, Lenalee and Kanda had stayed.

"It's just you and I now, brother." Lenalee whispered, raising her head. Tears were slipping uninhibited down her cheeks, matching the upturn of her eyebrows and the small, sorrowful smile that graced her lips. "Do you think they're happy, being together again and all?" Komui met his sister's gaze, revealing that he had shed his own share of tears already.

"Of course, my precious Lenalee." They both knew it, without even saying the words. Kanda, stubborn as he was, refused to end his own life and join Allen. But they could see the pain of it weighing on him. He had wanted to die for a long time, but he had wanted it to be real.

Komui placed his right hand over his heart, bunching his white uniform slightly. "Arigato, General Kanda Yu, for your service to the Order. Go in peace."

"And say hello to Allen-kun for me." Lenalee added ruefully, rubbing her eyes.

"Goodbye." They finished in unison, and then Lenalee departed, leaving Komui to issue his orders.

"Gentlemen, I want you to place Kanda Yu's casket right next to the one we already have. Yes, the white one. Allen Walker's."

* * *

_Kanda blinked, awakened by the sound of piano music. His eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in white furniture and settling on a familiar form seated on a piano bench, complacently playing the instrument._

_"Moyashi?" The snowy head whipped around, eyes widening before the music cut off and a lithe body tackled his own, slender arms wrapping around his shoulders._

_"K-Kanda! You're finally here, you dick. What took you so long? I've been waiting." His voice sounded on the verge of cracking, and he smiled shakily at the samurai, hands fisting in the dark hair. He was crying, just like Kanda figured the idiot would, but he honestly could care less, considering..._

_...he was crying too._


End file.
